


The Other Side

by Jaybirds_Night



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Vague metions of torture, sort of an au but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:06:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8840401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaybirds_Night/pseuds/Jaybirds_Night
Summary: I can't remember who I was- no, what I was before I was captured. I have no recollection of my childhood, my parents, the date of my birth, or where I lived. My mind has been wiped so many times that I- I don't even know my name...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Some facts about the Winter Soldier are slightly altered for plot reasons, such as how Howard Stark died.

I can't remember who I was- no, _what_ I was before I was captured. I have no recollection of my childhood, my parents, the date of my birth, or where I lived. My mind has been wiped so many times that I- I don't even know my _name_. 

Sometimes there's a rare moment where I dream. I imagine I'm dangling from a train over a snowy ravine. I am flooded with a foreign emotion, fear I think, something I've never felt before; that I can remember at least. Then I hear someone call out to, who I assume to be me, as they reach out for my hand. 

"-grab my hand!" They shout over the racket of the train's engines, their voice is muffled and distorted, yet for some reason it's familiar. I can tell it's a man, but I never get a chance to focus on his face before I find myself falling. Then everything goes black and I wake up. 

I like to think it's a memory. That maybe it will help me break my programing so I can be free... but I know it's just wishful thinking. 

I ask the scientists why I have the dream later. I regret the decision immediately as they stare at me with cold, calculating eyes. Some are frowning, others whispering to one another. The head scientist calls over the guards, then points at me. 

They beat me with fists, boot clad feet, clubs and the butts of their semi-automatics. I don't scream or cry, I just clench my jaw, screw my eyes shut and ride it out. After all, I am used to the pain. 

 _But why?_  

When the torture is done the head scientist slowly approaches me, grabbing a fistful of my dark hair. He jerks my head up roughly, forcing me to look him in the eye. 

" _The asset doesn't ask questions, nor does it speak unless ordered,_ " he tells me in Russian, his accent carrying with it a slight German twang. I can hear the menace in his voice but I don't react. 

I stare at him, emotionless, then nod weakly. He releases me with a grunt, my bare body slumping against the cool concrete. At first I think it's over until the guards pick me up by the arms, throwing me into a sickeningly familiar capsule. 

I watch with a hint of newly discovered fear as they tie me down. I have too many broken bones, too weak to fight back. Instead I focus on the head scientist, the twisted smirk on his lips making my breath hitch. 

As they close the glass door of the capsule and the freezing mist starts to seep into the chamber I can't help but wonder why they didn't erase today. 

However, the thought is soon forgotten as my breathing slows and my heart finds a new rhythm. Then my mind goes blank. 

 **~oOo~**  

When I am 'awoken' from my frozen state I am groggy, out of sync with the world around me. I'm neither asleep nor awake. I am in-between. My mind clouded, like a fog has settled in the depths of my brain. 

I can hear voices around me as I am moved from the chamber. They are distorted, creating the illusion of as if being underwater.  

Then a certain passage of words echoes clearly in my ears. Words that I despise because it sends the urge to kill pulsing through me. Turns me into something that isn’t who- _what_ I am, tearing away whatever scraps of humanity I have left. 

" _Longing... Rusted... Seventeen... Daybreak... Furnace... Nine... Benign... Homecoming... One... Freight car..._ " 

As the last syllable of the final word rang out I am no longer an empty shell of a once mindless pawn. I am an assassin. Cruel, ruthless, and efficient.  

I am the Winter Soldier. 

 **~oOo~**  

I've been deployed to New York with a new mission and a fresh target. I've set up shop in an abandoned building about a block away from where they said my target will be an hour from now. I don't question it, no matter what that irritating voice in the back of my mind says. 

As I wait for time to pass I take the mission log out of my pack. Skimming the crinkled pages I am quickly drawn to the target's name. Howard Stark. 

Why does that name sound so familiar?  

I furrow my brow and continue reading, refusing to let it distract me. Flipping the page I am faced with a picture of the target.  

He has dark, almost pitch black hair and brown eyes. In the photo he's wearing a crisp, gray business suit and a blue stripped tie. Now I know what to look for. 

Setting the paper aside I begin taking out and assembling my firearm. It's one of my favorites, it never jams or overheat like those pesky American machine guns. It will never betray, nor fail me. 

Resting the barrel of the gun on the open windowsill I view the target through the scope of my Barrett M82A1M. I smirk, right on time. I pull the trigger without hesitation and watch as a split second later the body falls to the sidewalk, lifeless. The screams of bystanders and the sirens of first responders is just white noise to me, irrelevant. It doesn't even fully register as I pack up my stuff. 

 _Mission successful._  

 **~oOo~**  

When I get back to the bunker, my reinforced steel prison, the scientists are _kind_ enough to let me wash up before I am once again frozen in time.  

I pull down the mask from the bridge of my nose and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I'm drawn to the hunk of metal that is my right arm then back at my face. 

The soldier's control has faded for now, and in it's place is... me. An empty shell of something that was once a normal human being. 

At first glance, you may think we're the same. _We're not._  

We are two separate beings. Both residing within the same body. Fighting for dominance, constantly clashing. 

The only thing he and I have in common is that we share the same face. And that's something I despise.


End file.
